Syncopate
by cranberieee
Summary: He's always pretended to have two left feet. Arthur really didn't like to dance. No matter how experienced he is and graceful he may be, Arthur Kirkland would not dance for the sheer entertainment of it. Of course, as the personification of England, he'd have to participate in a waltz or two during these mundane events of the upper crust society (( T for sexual themes derp ))


He's always pretended to have two left feet. Arthur really didn't like to dance. No matter how experienced he is and graceful he may be, Arthur Kirkland would not dance for the sheer entertainment of it. Of course, as the personification of England, he'd have to participate in a waltz or two during these mundane events of the upper crust society.

And he found himself in another one yet again.

It was another one of those trivial "Royal Charity Balls" and this one held much of the blue blood for it was planned to interlace with Her Princess Royal's , Anna, birthday. Arthur's emerald orbs scanned the ballroom, most of the U.K.'s monarchy was present were spread through the palace and of course, royals and few noblemen from close-tied countries were also there. Arthur looked at his ornament pocket watch with dismay as it slowly ticked away. His heart beat as soft and calm as the empty ticking in contrast to the merry syncopates being played. They were Anna's absolute favourite though complicated they may be.

"Mon cheri~ Why not dance with me?" A certain gorgeous blond Frenchman approached him wearing an expensively stylish white suit.

"Francis." He rolled his eyes. He really didn't have the patience to deal with imbeciles with the likes of this frog. From the corner of his peripherals, he could see Francis' shoulder length blond hair sway from the soft movements that he was doing in tune to the music. A high beat. Francis practically spun.

"What do you say, Arthur? For old time's sake!" Francis wore a shrewd smile that Arthur didn't really trust. The English gentleman responded, "No, thank you. Fortunately, I am not required to actively participate with these festivities so I see no reason to dance."

Francis shrugged at Arthur's retort. Well, he expected no less from the feisty personification of Great Britain and being France, he could say that he's had so much history with Arthur that it's enough to say he really knows the guy. He sighed and settled with standing by the furrowing Brit.

"I thought you'd leave when I said no." Arthur spat, crossing his arms over his pale black pinstriped suit with faded mint green accents. It brought out the jems in his eyes, Francis noted.

"I know you're waiting for him. He's right over there." Francis pointed towards a far off corner in the massive room where there was seemingly a crowd of young ladies. Arthur's eyes narrowed then he sharply averted his gaze.

"Oh Arthur~ such a shy lover," Francis chuckled, "just whisk Antoine away from there and, " the taller blond leaned down and started whispering obviously naughty things as the shorter began to turn red.

And with a wink, Francis had pushed the shorter nation towards the general direction of the crowd of young ladies. Arthur shot back a glare at Francis who simply waved him off and pointed there again. One girl is apparently French and has apparently taken quite a liking to a certain tan brunette. Arthur felt his heart go off beat like one of Anna's beloved syncopates.

When he walked to the area of the ladies' gathering, Arthur listened to everything that he could, trying to distract himself from the persistent annoyance of his heart. It was cacophony of voices, footsteps, fine porcelain, distant music, and appetites being satisfied with his off set heartbeat as the unchained melody to it all. He mentally cussed himself for being such a worrywart and over protective twat but he soon took it back as he watched as a French seductress coo into the bronze ear of a cheery Spaniard. Arthur would've punched her if she wasn't some prissy noble blood and if they weren't at this high-class event in which he needed to act like a complete gentleman.

"Arthurrr~!" He heard his name being called out from a few feet away from him. A grassy green of mellifluous textures met an emerald green of cold exterior. Antonio had noticed that he was coming for him. Everything suddenly went quiet.

"Arthur?" He could see the Spanish man extract himself out of the bubble of women surrounding him and gracefully heading towards him, was Antonio dancing? No, he was just walking. His heartbeat came back on full throttle followed by the chorus of the various noises within the room.

"Mi amour?" Antonio was now inches away from Arthur, the smell of tomatoes and spices clinging onto the Spaniard's slightly disgruntled brown suave suit. Arthur scowled and proceeded to pull Antonio away from the crowd. From the whole gathering itself actually. Until they reached the hall, Antonio retracted his hand from his lover.

"Arthur!" He stopped at his tracks; Arthur turned back and looked down, trying his best to hide his blushing face and emotional turmoil. Why was does this bloody git flirt around so much? He could feel the off reverberation of his heart, simply too fast to match the calm music around them.

"I- Goddamnit. Why do you have to be such a frivolous philanderer?" Arthur scoffed at the man in front of him who now wore a confused expression that wasn't any help to his heart.

"Que~?" Antonio quirked with a glowing smile, those girls did not stand a chance against this guy's charms. Neither did Arthur as he huffed and turned his fuming face away from the Spaniard.

A soft chuckle and Arthur felt himself being pulled closer until he was merely centimeters away from Antonio, their foreheads touching ever so slightly. Arthur dared to look into the other's forest eyes. With the smell of sunshine and rain mingling around them.

"Were you jealous, Arthur~?" The British man could feel his lover's smile stretch as a chaste kiss was placed on his cheek. The action made him blush harder as he tried to shove away the clingy Antonio.

"Perhaps. A tad bit." Arthur whispered as he put some distance between them. It wasn't the time and place for them to do such canoodling in public. A gentleman knows when or when not to hold someone in such proximities in public. He looked at the kicked puppy face the Spanish man gave him.

A raised beat. Arthur had a brilliant idea. He may not like dancing but he liked being close to a certain brunette who also seems to agree that touching each other was a must.

He bowed and offered a hand to Antonio, "Care for a dance?" he couldn't help the smirking that came along with the gesture. The stunned yet happy face that Antonio was giving him was calming down his turbulent heart.

"Si," Antonio took his hand, "I'd loved to~"

Arthur made a point to keep room for the 'holy spirit' in between the both of them. He laughed inwardly at that absurd rule of ballroom dancing and began leading the Spaniard into a waltz. Their expert steps matched the soft dulcet echoing through the room.

A quiet box step here, another there. The calming motions of the dance seemed to lull the Spaniard to sleep as Arthur's eyes studied him. Green eyes would disappear under brown eyelashes, as Antonio would blink in his haze.

"Arthur, this dance is so boring~" Antonio leaned forward, closing the gap between them and grinned. "Spanish dances are more fun, si~?" The Spaniard cooed as he laced an arm around the Briton's waist, pulling him closer. Arthur grew 50 shades of red darker and snuck a look at the people around them. Luckily, they had gotten mixed in with a crowd of dancers and were apparently well hidden.

From the graceful waltz, they changed into something upbeat, something very Spanish. Arthur couldn't name what it was but it was somewhat of a bolero and tango. They were out of tune with soft piano song.

"Let's see if you're slick as they say, eh?" The blond smiled as he allowed himself be guided through the dance floor. The sway of Spanish hips and the hot breath teasing his neck was absolutely…Spain.

The dance was passionate. Arthur didn't even give a fuck who saw them after seeing Her Royal Highness smile at him when he dared glance at her direction. Each little move made him inch closer and feel more elated as he let his Antonio lead him in a dance so full what can only be his country's.

A slow dip and he heard applause; a winded Spaniard who was smiling at him as always pulled him upright. Arthur looked throughout the ballroom and everyone had seemed to stop and stare at their quaint exhibition. He blushed. Even the syncopates had stopped, making Arthur's uneven heartbeat the sole source of sound in his ears as he blocked out the praise.

Antonio saw Arthur's discomfort and dragged him out of the room. With a few turns and stairs, Arthur saw that the Spanish man navigating them to his chambers, he smiled. This brunette had felt the exact same need that he did, the feeling of wanting to touch more of each other but it was never quite enough.

Suddenly pinning Antonio to the white marble walls of the halls, Arthur made haste in crushing their lips together in a much-needed heated kiss. Antonio had welcomed the other's intrusion and kissed back with a fire that could burn down a million palaces. The Brit's hands wandered, discarding the Spanish man's jacket as if it were an offensive accessory. He probably shouldn't have for Antonio might have had to spend an awful lot for it. Arthur couldn't care less though, all that he cared for was his hear beat. And how completely off key but sweet sounding it is as it throbs for this fiery brunette.

_A/N: Christopher Kringlefucker- one of those stories that you start off really nicely but then get too lazy to add details and stuff. Oh man, I'm sorry if yeah. I'll do justice for my otp next time D:_


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